State of Imaginary Grace
by WonderfulWhy
Summary: "'You. You are my problem right now.' I kept on walking but before I knew it I was literally swept off my feet and thrown over a shoulder that was surprisingly high off the ground." When the daughter of an ex-supervillain starts to attend Sky High with her friends and things get... interesting. Especially when a certain villain gets involved. Lash/OC
1. Prologue

**Imaginary Grace**

_Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love._

Rainer Maria Rilke

. . .

"_Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux."_

The Fox, _The Little Prince_

**So, yeah. Please give it a chance, lovies – you won't regret it.**


	2. Firsts

Perception is everything – and perception is not just about how people look or act. It's instinct. How you feel about people. It's kind of amazing what humans can tell about each other when things are just left up to gut feeling. It's like there's a part of your heart that can tell you the truth about someone.

Even if it's not the truth you want to hear.

. . .

My last day of summer was spent holed up in my bedroom. My room was in the attic and was lit every morning by the series of skylights in the ceiling that led to the gable of my prim-looking Victorian house that could have been mistaken for a dollhouse by a giant – it wasn't my father or I's style, but my mother had picked it out before I was born and if there was one thing to say about my dad in those days, it was that he could never say no to my mom. And even though my mom wasn't there anymore, we were both really attached to the place.

I always woke up very early even though I wasn't really a morning person, per say. But on my first day of Sky High, I found the will to roll out of bed and start my morning routine – though little did I know at the time that that year would be anything but routine.

After stretching like a cat, I clambered out of my bed. The attic was large, almost my own sort of apartment that had light blue walls and a floor laden with mismatched rugs. I grabbed the remote to the small iPod speakers and pressed play. _Noah and the Whale_'s "5 Years Time" started to play loudly. I was very glad that no one was watching as a danced like a dork towards my bathroom – seriously, I can't dance. I hastily brushed my teeth until I was, as the box proclaimed, minty fresh. Once I had washed my giant mop of tawny brown hair with Burt's Bee's raspberry scented shampoo, I tripped out of my shower and nearly breaking my nose (a normal morning, ya know). Trying to manage 'the beast' – which was the nickname for my hair – took some time, but finally I got it to settle into calm beachy curls before I put it into a loose braid. While I usually took very little time picking out my clothing, I decided that the first day of school probably merited some special attention. But that seemed like too much trouble, so I just quickly sided with a simple, light-blue button up dress, a faded and fit jean jacket, and a pair of light brown ankle boots.

For a moment, I looked in the mirror. "Today is going to be absolutely hellish," I chirped in an oddly cheery voice. My pessimism was interrupted my father's warm-but-gruff voice.

"Lunette Sola Tamor! Get your ass down here, kid!" my father yelled from the bottom of the narrow stairway that led up to my room. I could tell he was nervous – he only ever used my full name when he was.

I laughed and grabbed my bag and iPod. By the time I had gotten to the kitchen, my father – the amazing gent he is – had put out a to-go cup filled to the brim with strawberry smoothie. "Thanks, dad – you're a beautiful human being."

"I know," he said dryly from behind his newspaper. Peering up from the sports section, he pushed his thick rimmed glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and gave me a serious look. "Don't start any fights, don't do cocaine, don't disrespect yourself, and remember that you're great – I love you, kid," he deadpanned. My father was a man of many emotions and only one facial expression. I laughed loudly, put my headphones in, and picked up my smoothie.

"Right back at you, dad."

Walking down the block, I listened to the Blondie and tried not to belt "Call Me" at the top of my lungs. I finally made it to the corner where my bus stop was and threw away my smoothie cup before I saw a familiar pair walking towards me. I tucked my headphones into my bag and waved and the red-headed girl and the scrawny but sweet boy. "Hey, Will! Layla!" I had known the pair that was approaching me ever since I was eight.

Layla embraced me. "Luna, can you believe it's our first day of learning to save the world?" She was obviously very excited – Will, less so. I had been told only a couple years ago that he still didn't have any powers.

"Well," I sighed dramatically, "I have a terrible sense of foreboding in my gut and all of my instincts are telling me to run like hell so… Yes. Yes, I can believe it's our first day of high school. Speaking of…" I pointed towards the large yellow bus that was heading our way. When it pulled up in front of us, a rather intense-looking bus driver opened the door.

"Is this the bus to Sky High?" Will asked. The bus driver flipped.

"_Shhh_. What are you, crazy?" he scolded before he slammed the bus door shut, almost hitting me in the process. "Do you want every super villain in the neighborhood to know that we're here?" Will murmured his embarrassed apologies. "What's your name, freshman?" the bus driver drilled.

"Um, Will Stronghold."

For a second I thought that the bus driver was going to throw up from the look of utter nervous excitement that was on his face. "The son of the Commander and Jetstream?" _Oh, here we go, _I thought to myself as Will nodded sheepishly. I wanted to slam my palm into my face when I watched the bus driver shoot up and announce "Everyone! It's Will Stronghold! Son of the Commander and Jetstream!"

"Seriously, man?" I mumbled to myself. As much as I wanted to intercede to save Will from the embarrassment that the driver was causing my friend, the damage had been done, and I was really in no position to have the driver announce my parentage.

"I'm Ron Wilson," Ron Wilson said eagerly, shaking Will's hand with an aggressive enthusiasm. "Sky High bus driver. If there's anything I can do to make your journey more comfortable, let me know." He pointed to the two kids sitting in the seats behind his. I recognized them as Ethan Turner, who I had met that earlier that summer in camp, and Magenta Lu, who lived a couple houses over from mine. "You two! Up! The seat behind Ron Wilson belongs to Will Stronghold," Ron barked at them.

Ethan hopped up immediately. "It would be an honor."

"No, no… You really don't have to," Will pleaded. But Ethan wouldn't have it.

"No, really, I want to," he smiled, "You're third generation, man." Ethan looked down at my neighbor. "Magenta, get up."

"Why? He only needs one seat," she stated bluntly.

Ethan suddenly gestured to Layla, who I was hiding behind. "So he can sit with his girlfriend."

"Layla? No, she's just my friend," Will explained and Layla nodded, even though I could tell she was disappointed by his nonchalant reply.

"Yeah. Totally. He's like my brother."

I snorted and received a painful jab to the ribs, inflicted by one red head's very well-aimed elbow. "Ouch."

After Layla was hit on briefly by a small boy named Larry, the three of us moved to the back of the bus, where Will sat with Zach – a boy who was way too color-coordinated for his own good – and I sat with Layla.

"So Larry's hot. When can I expect to receive the wedding invitation?" I said with a stoic expression that was quickly broken when Layla and I both burst into giggles.

We continued to talk about what classes we wanted to be in and things like that until Ron Wilson (bus driver) started to take a very unusual route – unusual here meaning he started to merge onto a ramp that was clearly marked with a giant 'road closed' sign. As we looked around in confusion, seat straps shot across all of our chests and held us back as roller-coaster bars emerged in front of us.

"I'm going to say right now that I'm _not _cool with this," I whimpered as I attempted to free myself. I only looked up when I heard our driver utter the words 'off-road'. "Yep," I yelped, "_definitely _not okay with any of this!"

I was clutching onto Layla like it was my job as we soared off of the edge of an incomplete overpass. My eyes were shut and I was completely terrified but I kept quiet – see, unlike normal people who scream when they're distressed, I'm an idiot who pretty much shuts down and doesn't move or speak. It's weird. "Luna," Layla said gently, "open your eyes. We're here."

As I cracked one lid open to look out the window at the school that was now emerging from the clouds, I listened to Ron's spiel. "There she is: Sky High. Kept aloft by the latest anti-gravitational propulsion, she is kept in constant motion as a precaution against those who might have more nefarious plans. Her location is supplied only to a few highly qualified individuals such as myself, Ron Wilson, bus driver," he pronounced proudly.

We landed roughly. But something about that fact didn't really surprise me.

"Don't miss the bus, because the bus waits for no one," Ron said as we all of the shell-shocked freshmen started to unload from the bus. "Except for you, Will Stronghold!" he added. "You ever running late or running early or you just want to talk give me a call." With that he pulled out a weirdly official-looking business card. Will (of course) took it from him and politely thanked him.

"Since when do bus drivers have business cards?" I mumbled to Layla. She was about to answer me until she got swept up into awe that the rest of the new freshman class felt as they took in the campus. "Whoa."

The place looked like it sprang out of a comic book, with its perfectly manicured and vibrantly green grass. The entrance had modern columns and tall glass windows lining the front; some students literally flew onto the cream steps that led up to the front entrance; one guy zapped a girl on her ass and in retaliation she froze them. _Froze them_. It was like the best kind of bedlam.

"_Hello, freshman, don't be shy – welcome, newbies, to Sky High!_" a very preppy and very identical cheer squad chanted at us. "_We're back to school – Sky is the best!_" they finished before they morphed into one girl.

"Holy shit," I mumbled. Layla elbowed me and I smiled playfully as I simpered, "What? I'm just that amazed that she literally can't contain all of that school spirit."

My friend shook her head disapprovingly but I could see that she was trying to refrain from smiling. "You're not funny."

"I'm wounded," I laughed before turning to Ethan. "Hey, do you know where we're supposed to –" Before I finished my sentence, my tawny hair started to whip around my face and our group started to press together for some very annoying reason. The reason in question was a rather chubby student who obviously possessed super speed. He skidded to a halt in front of us.

"Hey, freshman. Your attention, please." Something told me that the 'please' part wasn't usually part of this guy's vocabulary. Suddenly, another lanky student stretched himself to impossible lengths and flipped beside the other boy. The large skull on his shirt and the black and white stripes on his long-sleeved top he wore under it reminded me of _The Nightmare Before Christmas_. But something about his demeanor suggested it was more like _The Nightmare Before Chem Class._

I did notice, however, that he looked a bit like a puppy – you know, shaggy brown hair and big chocolate eyes. But something told me that he was probably about to act less like a cute little puppy and more like a vicious attack dog.

"I'm Lash. This is Speed," he introduced, patting his partner in crime on the shoulder. "And as representatives of the Sky High welcoming committee…"

"We'd be happy to collect the $15 new student fee," the rather oddly named Speed finished smugly. 'Lash' stretched an arm so his hand hovered in front of Ethan.

Ethan looked really confused and shook his head. "Um… There was nothing about a new student fee in the handbook." Oh, boy.

I quickly brushed the bully's hand away and turned to Ethan. "That's because there isn't one, sweetheart." Patting him on the shoulder, I rolled my light grey eyes at Lash and Speed. "Could you both just leave? I'm sure you have something better to do with your time than harass freshman."

The two looked at each other for a second before stepping towards me in concert. They both were far too close to me for my liking, and towered over my small figure by at least a foot each. "Like what, princess?" The one named Lash smirked, flicking a stray lock of hair out of my face. Which was a bit weird. But I held my ground.

"I don't know," I shrugged sarcastically. "Maybe you could go and find more creative nicknames."

The smiles slid off both of their faces as the rest of my freshman class snickered into their palms. They were about to say something in response when a tall girl who looked like Barbie's brunette friend Nikki stopped them. "Alright, guys. Very funny but I'll take it from here." The two sulked away but the leaner of the two looked back at me for a moment, smirking before continuing on his merry way.

"Hey, everybody," she smiled brightly, "I'm Gwen Grayson, your student body president. I know you're all going to love it here at Sky High." I arched an unconvinced eyebrow and turned to look at Layla so I could mouth an observation about the amount of pink Ms. Grayson was sporting. But Layla was otherwise occupied by the transfixed look on Will's face. I was so disturbed by the sight that I missed out on everything Madame President was saying.

"… I promise you will not fall off the edge of the school," she finished. I politely chuckled even though I was a bit panicked about those closing words. "Now just follow me inside for orientation."

As we were walking up the steps, Layla grabbed my arm. "You really shouldn't provoke those guys – they _really _aren't giving me a real warm-and-friendly vibe," she warned quietly.

I shrugged. "Well, as soon as they stop being douches, I will stop provoking – what are they gonna do? Banter me to death? Plus, I think my powers could handle them before anything too bad goes down." I smiled at her but she looked unconvinced.

Before I knew it, we were all inside a behemoth of a gym. But before I could really take it all in, a shimmering orb of white energy swirled around us and landed behind a podium that stood in front of a large glass window before it manifested into a woman wearing a white pantsuit – but the weirdest part? She totally pulled the pantsuit off.

"Good morning. I am Principle Powers, and on behalf of all of the faculty and staff, welcome to Sky High," she told us. Zach whooped and earned a pretty dazzling eyebrow arch from her before she continued. "In a few moments you will go through Power Placement and your own heroic journey will begin…"

I inwardly groaned; this was going to be hellish. My father had explained the process of Power Placement to me as soon as I left middle school.

"What's Power Placement?" Will asked Layla and I.

I really didn't have the heart to tell him and Layla apparently didn't know, instead stating "Sounds fascist." And it really was. (Sort of) lucky for me, I didn't have to break it to him.

"Power Placement," Ethan piped helpfully, "is how they decide where you go."

"The Hero track of Loser track." Magenta looked pretty displeased with it all.

But as displeased as she looked, she wasn't nearly as displeased or nervous as Will when he asked, "There's a loser track?" I swear his voice was about to crack.

"I believe the preferred term is 'Hero Support'." Ethan looked like he was trying to be helpful but I couldn't help but slap my palm to my face.

"But the term that everybody uses is 'Sidekick'," I added. "And here, that term does not denote such figures as Robin, Harley Quinn, or Pepper Potts. Nope. Sky High places sidekicks right beside Aquaman's subordinate, whom I don't even remember the name of."

"Aqualad," Ethan whispered.

"For now, good deeds and good luck," Principle Powers finished. "Let the adventure begin! Comets away!" She then became a ball of awesomeness and swirled out of the room, leaving us by ourselves once again.

Everyone in my immediate friend group looked a bit disheartened so I tried to lighten the mood. "'Let the adventure begin'" I repeated. "I think I'm going to put that on a pillow." Layla laughed a bit but I could tell that I hadn't really cheered anyone up.

A platform rose out of the floor, supporting a guy wearing a track jacket, track shorts, a baseball cap, and aviator glassed. Needless to say, it was a bit over the top. "Alright, listen up," he barked at us, "My name is Coach Boomer. Some of you may know me as Sonic Boom. Some of you may not."

We were all a bit too intimidated to say anything.

"Here's how Power Placement is gonna work. You will step up here and show me your power." He gestured to the platform. "And yes, you will do so in front of the entire class. I will then determine where you will be assigned… Hero or Sidekick," he declared. I couldn't bear to look at Will. Instead, I just tried to breathe deeply and remain calm. "Now every year there are a few students, or as I like to call them 'Whiner Babies', who see fit to question and to complain about their placement. So let's get one thing straight: my word is law. My judgment is final, so there will be no whiner babies. Are we clear?"

My classmates all murmured in acknowledgement but we soon realized our mistake.

"I said, are we CLEAR?" he asked again, this time his voice amplified, emitting strong sonic waves that took us all aback. I was actually knocked on my ass… which was pretty embarrassing, but I tried not to think about it as Layla and Will lifted me from the gym floor. Coach Boomer blew his whistle and barked, "Go-time!" as a set of stair emerged from the platform. He took off his glasses and stared straight at the small boy with the curly hair and glasses.

"L-Larry," he stuttered.

"Little Larry," Boomer mocked. "Get up here."

'Little Larry' paced forward up onto the platform. "What's humiliating him going to prove? This is so unfair," Layla whispered.

"If life were to suddenly get fair, I doubt it would happen in high school," Will replied.

I nodded in agreement and Layla glared at me for not taking her side. "What? The kid has a point." I turned my gaze back up to the platform where Larry was putting his glasses in his pocket and promptly turning into a giant stone monster, which caught the car that Boomer had dropped from the ceiling. I practically had to pick my jaw up from the floor.

"Hero," Boomer said before marking on his clipboard. All of the sudden, Zach marched forward onto the platform. "Did I say you were next?"

"Name's Zach. Try not to drop your clipboard." The boy swung his arms around a bit and clapped his hands together. But nothing happened.

"Any day now, superstar," the Coach said shortly.

"I'm doin' it. I'm glowin'."

Boomer had never looked so sassy. "I don't think so."

Zach started to fidget. "Well," he replied nervously, "it's easier to see in a dark room – so maybe if we just turn off these lights and cup your hands around your eyes and look real close –"

"Sidekick." Boomer turned to mark his clipboard and just as Zach was about to protest, Boomer repeated himself with his power, blasting Zach off the stage.

Over the next hour, Boomer plowed through the freshman class with brutal efficiency and snark.

Ethan could melt. Sidekick.

Boy with six arms. Hero.

Girl who could turn into a bouncy ball. Sidekick.

Super acid spit. Hero. And gross.

Physical mimicry. Hero.

Magenta. Could morph into an awesome purple and brown guinea pig. Sidekick.

Finally it was Layla's turn. "You. Flower child. Let's go."

"Uh, I believe in only using my powers when the situation demands it," Layla replied quickly.

"Well, you're in luck," the Coach quipped. "This is the situation, and I'm demanding it."

And yet the red-head didn't budge. "But to participate in this test would be to support a flawed system. I think the whole hero-sidekick dichotomy only serves to…"

"Let me get this straight." Boomer held out a hand to stop her. "Are you refusing to show me your powers?"

There are just some things that friends don't let friends do: one of those things is letting said friend commit unnecessary social suicide; I had to step in. "Sir, I think what Layla is trying to say –"

"Zip it, princess," he seethed at me. _Why is everyone calling me that? _I thought angrily.

Layla put a hand on my arm and gave me a comforting look before turning back to speak to her antagonist. "It's more complicated than th—"

"Sidekick," he boomed, emitting yet another set of sonic waves and knocking me to my ass yet again. The man that I decided that I extremely disliked looked back to his clipboard. "Lunette Tamor?" he called out. I heard a resounding gasp from around the gym. "As in the daughter of Tamor the Terror? The super villain?"

"He just goes by Daniel now, actually," I corrected sardonically as I was once again pulled from the floor by my friends. "And the term is reformed-villain. He hasn't been… er… _villainous_ since before I was born. So… No need to worry." I started to make my way up to the platform. "And I go by Luna."

"Alright then, _Luna. _Why don't you do us a favor and show us your power – we aren't getting any younger," he said.

"I… I, um, don't…" I knew what I had to do. "I really don't want to show you my power. Place me with the Sidek – with Hero Support." Boomer's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, no you don't," he grunted. He obviously had something to prove with this whole 'daughter-of-a-super-villain' thing. "Car."

I immediately somersaulted out of the way before I could be crushed. I was suddenly very thankful for the years of gymnastics I had taken – even if I was a klutz the majority of the time. "I'm starting to question the legality of this process," I hissed at him.

"Then show me your power." The annoying man clicked a button and the car was lifted back to the ceiling.

"No thanks." I knew I would probably regret this decision, but it seemed like a better option to be underestimated by the general population than overestimated to the point of terror. And being in the Hero class would probably earn me the latter, thanks to my dad.

"Fine, then. Sidekick." The bell suddenly rang loudly. "Alright, we'll pick it up right after lunch… Starting with _you_." I abruptly felt pretty sick when I realized Boomer was talking to Will.

. . .

"I'm telling you, Boomer is going to regret making me a sidekick. A'ight? Someday, it'll be dark, he'll be all alone, walking to his car. He'll drop his keys and I won't glow to help him find 'em," Zach stated as our merry little band walked through the cafeteria.

"That'll show 'em," I said somewhat sarcastically as I tossed my apple back and forth in my hands. By the time we had finally settled into our seats in the cafeteria, we all seemed to be in a not-so-great mood. I noticed Will looked even more freaked out than he did after we left the gym. "Will? What's wrong?"

"Nothing… It's just…" He lowered his voice and leaned in to talk. "Am I crazy, or is that guy really looking at me?" From my seat across from him, I could see who he was mentioning. It was an older boy, with a brooding countenance and dark, shoulder-length hair that was streaked with red. And the guy was embodying the whole 'if looks could kill' thing when it came to Will.

"Hey, I know that guy," I said quietly. "That's Baron Battle's kid – Warren Peace. We played together when we were really little. I wonder if he remembers me… Anyway, yeah. Dad – super villain. Mom – hero. Talk about a family dynamic. Wait… That was my family dynamic. Awkward."

"So where do I come in?" Will asked.

Ethan raised his eyebrows, surprised that Will didn't know. "Your dad busted his dad. Quadruple life sentence."

"No chance of parole until after his third life," Magenta added.

Will sighed sullenly. "That's great; my first day of Sky High and I already have an archenemy. Perfect. Just perfect." The boy slammed down his apple juice.

I reached across the table and thumped him on the back. "Hey, you never know – just 'cause your families hate each other doesn't mean that you won't fall in love with each other. Like Romeo and Juliet. Minus the depressing ending."

"Ha. Ha," Will mumbled sarcastically. "Is he still looking?"

"No." Layla was totally bluffing when she said this.

Once we were done with our lunch, we had to head back to the gym – as much as Will hated the idea. Layla, Zach, and I were debating the pros and cons of pranking Boomer while young William was distracted with his thoughts. So distracted that he ran straight into Madame President Gwen freaking Grayson herself.

"I'm…" Will said, unable to complete a sentence because he was so lost in her eyes.

Gwen just smiled a disturbingly perfect smile. "Will Stronghold."

Will partially snapped out of his trance to reply, "Aha! Mindreader." _He'd better hope not,_ I thought to myself.

"No. Nametag," the President said graciously.

Will seemed a bit embarrassed but soldiered on. "Uh, these are my friends. That's Zach, Luna, and L—"

"Layla, got it. I love your skirt." She sounded a bit insincere – maybe she was as fake as Barbie's brunette counterpart, too.

I was going to say something subtly snarky to her but I heard something rather peculiar gurgling/grunting noise. "Sorry, guys – I'll catch up later. My spidey senses are tingling." I waved goodbye and quickly headed down the hallway as I tried to detect the source of the mysterious sound. Stopping in front of the men's room, I heard a rather Ethan-sounding 'Help!' I did a silent prayer that there would be no imminent mental scarring from storming into a men's washroom unannounced. "Ethan?" I called as I stepped through the doorway.

"Lu-Lun-ah," he gurgled from the bowl his head was being forced down by the two bullies I had been acquainted with earlier that day.

I pushed past them and pulled Ethan out of the stall. "Oh, dear God – are you alright?" I clutched onto his shoulders so I could hold my disoriented friend steady before turning to his tormentors. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" I hissed at the bullies.

"What are you doing in the boy's room?" Speed hissed back. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"Do I look like I give a fu—" I was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. I turned to see Will, who was looking a little more than bewildered. Ethan decided that this was his time to bow out and ran to the door.

"What's up, guys… and Luna," Will said hesitantly.

Speed crossed his arms and smirked. "The kid looked a little dehydrated." Lash chuckled at the joke. "And then his little girlfriend came in here to rescue him."

"I doubt you know the definition of dehydrated and I am not his girlfriend," I retorted. The taller of the boys sauntered over toward me.

"That makes sense," he said leaning down towards my face. "Because there's no way that a sidekick like him would end up with someone as cute as you, princess."

I scoffed in disgust. "Do me a favor and take a walk to the edge of the school," I said as I turned to leave, "and then keep walking. See you later, Will." As soon as I exited the boy's bathroom – receiving several very odd looks (some of which were directed at my crotch) – I heard my name over the loudspeaker.

"_Will Lunette Tamor please come to the principal's office? Will Lunette Tamor please come to the principal's office?"_

I groaned loudly and looked both ways in the rapidly clearing hallway. I wasn't exactly sure which way to go, so I decided to go whichever way I fancied.

After ten minutes of wandering the now-deserted corridors, I finally admitted I was totally lost. And that was when I heard his voice.

"A little lost, princess?" A striped arm stretched out to spin me around to face its very smug owner. Lash.

I clenched my jaw and shook my head. "No," I lied, "And my name is not 'princess'. And don't you have a class to be in or something?"

He smiled, making surprisingly attractive dimples appear on his face. "Yes. Yes, I do. But not being in a class is sort of the point of skipping said class." He crossed his arms and seemed to examine me for a moment. "Then what is it?

"I'm sorry?" I said. "Then what is what?"

"Your name – if it's not princess, what is it?"

I couldn't really see any reason not to give him my name – especially if it stopped him from calling me princess. "Lunette," I responded coolly. "Lunette Tamor. But my friends call me Luna. Meaning you can call me Lunette."

"Ouch." He mockingly touched his chest as if I had broken his heart or something. "So, you're Tamor the Terror's daughter; I'm a big fan of his earlier work."

"I'll pass on the compliment." I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "Well, if you'll excuse me… Lash? Yeah, Lash. I have to go to the principal's office." I hadn't turned around for two seconds before both of his striped arms stretched to wrap back around my waist and spun me back around to face him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." His grip loosened a bit but he did not let me go. "Well, _Lunette_, as a gentleman who has been there many-a time before, I must inform you that the principal's office is on the other side of the building."

"What?" I nearly shrieked. Dammit, Powers might be pissed at me for being so late. I tried to break free of his grasp but it couldn't. "Let me go, Lash."

"I would," he sighed, "but then you'd just get your pretty little head even more lost than you are now." He let go of my waist and held out a hand to me. "So let me take you there – I can get you to Powers in two minutes."

"Or we could just skip the pretense and you can lock me in an unused class room in the most deserted part of the school right now."

Lash chuckled. "You're being paranoid."

"No," I said angrily. "I'm being cautious; you've harassed my friends twice today. Do you really think I'm that stupid?" I started to storm away from him.

"What's your problem?" he yelled at my retreating figure.

I turned briefly to look at him – he looked a bit frustrated now. "You. You are my problem right now." I kept on walking but before I knew it I was literally swept off my feet and thrown over a shoulder that was surprisingly high off the ground. "Dear god, how tall are you?"

"6'3"," he replied nonchalantly. "Why? How tall are you?"

"5'1". On a good day." I started to kick but stopped when I realized how much it would hurt if I fell from this height. And using my powers would have the same effect. "Is there any way that I could convince you to put me down gently by saying I'd come with on my own accord?" I was suddenly swung off his shoulder and put lightly on the ground.

"Follow me."

As it turned out, his idea of a shortcut was using the heating vents to get around. After five minutes of a way-too-close proximity with the bully, we came out of a vent that led into the hallway outside of the gym. I stood up and brushed the dust on my dress off. "Now what?"

"This is it." He shrugged. "Just go left and you'll be there."

I arched an eyebrow and looked up at him in surprise. "Um… Thanks." I quickly walked out of the room and turned left, trying to find a rational explanation of why he had actually done what he'd promised to do.

Powers' office was just where Lash said it would be. I gave a couple light knocks on the door before opening it. "Ma'am? You wanted to see me – sorry for being so late, by the way. The halls are oddly labyrinthine." She just arched an immaculately plucked eyebrow and gestured at one of the white armchairs in front of her desk.

"So, Lunette… How has your first day at Sky High been?"

Small talk. Okay. I could do small talk. "Um. Eventful, I suppose. Power Placement was pretty interesting."

"Ah, yes," she sighed before clasping her hands together and leaning forward. "Power Placement. I was quite shocked, Ms. Tamor, to discover that you had been placed in Hero Support – and I was even more surprised that you seemed to want that."

I had sort of seen this coming; I took a deep breath and thought of how I should answer. "I just think that I would be better suited there."

"What's your power, Lunette?" Powers asked me.

"Pheromone manipulation – I can make people sick, disoriented, tired, compliant, enamored… All of that jazz. I think it's a bit of a mixture of my parents' powers." I shrugged.

"That's quite an ability."

I bit my lower lip. "It has its days."

"You know," Powers said gently, "that kind of power would usually always merit being put in hero class. And I think that you know that… So do you mind telling my why you asked to be a sidekick? Was it because all of your friends are in that class?"

"No, ma'am," I responded quietly, my eyes suddenly quite fixated on my shoes. "I just don't want anyone to feel like I'm a threat or something. Because of my father."

"Who is reformed. But still… I see. I understand." She nodded silently. "Alright. Speaking of your father, he called to say that he was called up to go an emergency business trip to Dubai. He said he'll be gone for a couple of days and that you know what to do." She examined me for a moment and her eyes softened. "Did you know I was very close with your mother? We were the best of friends when we were younger. You look a lot like her… But that's probably a bit off point – have a nice day, Lunette."

I whispered my thanks and quietly left the room. As soon as I turned the corner, I entered a dark, empty classroom, and sat on a long desk and closed my eyes. I was just trying to take in all in at once – my father was gone during my first week at high school, and my principal had just mentioned my mother. No one talked about my mother. _Ever_. It's not like she was a taboo topic or anything, she died when I was just a baby so I didn't really miss her; my dad was enough for me, even though it could be hard. It just took me aback when Powers told me I looked like her. I had never really thought about it.

My mother was an exceptionally beautiful woman, inside and out. She had a sweet heart-shaped face and Cupid 's bow lips that were a dusky rose color, but other than that she was hard to describe. When I was little, my father told me that she _wasn't_ the kind of beautiful that made people stop talking when she walked into a room. But instead she was the kind of beautiful that would just shock you one day, like you'd just be looking at her one moment as a pretty little thing and the next you would be in awe. I could never really compare to her. I suppose I did look like her in some – or perhaps most – ways but I was a dim light compared to her. I was clumsy sometimes, forgetful most times, and a dork all of the time. I was common.

All of the sudden, I felt exhausted. So tired. I could hardly keep my eyes open, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

. . .

"Come on, freshmen!"

I was woken with a jolt by Ron's loud voice. Disoriented, I felt around me, trying to get a handle on my surroundings; I was in the bus, sitting in an empty-other-than-me bus seat as the rest of my class piled into the vehicle. I caught Layla's eye and she waved frantically at me.

"Lunette!" she scolded as she slid in next to me. You could always tell what degree Layla was upset by what she called you – 'Lunette' was pretty serious. "Where the hell were you after lunch? Boomer got a note from Principal Powers during the second half of Power Placement and I'm guessing it was about you… Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I just had a meeting with Powers. She said my dad was out of town on emergency business and then I kind of took a nap." I shrugged.

She looked confused. "In the bus?"

I shook my head slowly. "No… Come to think of it, I have no idea how the hell I ended up here. I bet I just came here myself half-asleep and didn't remember when I woke up," I guessed. Part of me just wanted to reassure Layla – and myself to some extent. She looked convinced.

"Okay," she smiled at me. "Do you want to stay with me and my mom while your dad's gone?"

I looked out the window at the school, which was quickly disappearing in the clouds. "Sure, Layla."

**Author's Note: So that's the first chapter – sorry if some of you think it's too long but I just wanted to lay out some good groundwork. I'd really like to continue this, so if I get enough reviews and follows. I think that I'd like at least 5-10 reviews before I post the second chapter.**

**Much love and cheers, C.**

**The songs mentioned in this chapter are Noah and the Whale's**__**"5 Years Time" and Blondie's "Call Me", both of which are amazing and I suggest that you listen to both of them.**


	3. Welcome to the Dollhouse

"Suh, ith yu dad gana beh oka wit ta hewo supot thin?" Layla asked me apprehensively, her mouth stuffed with Chinese takeout that we had begged out of her mom. We were sitting cross-legged on her swinging porch bench, our shoes laid out beside the front door and our table manners thrown whole-heartedly out of the window.

I shrugged, not really wanting to think about it. "I hope that he's gonna be okay with me asking to be put in hero support and if he isn't… well, what's he gonna do? He's in India, and he won't find out until he gets back. He won't be able to do anything about it by then; even his reach doesn't extend that far." I stabbed a piece of tofu with my chopstick and ate it awkwardly, not even noticing the expectant stare that she was giving me.

"And?" she asked, putting down her food and scooting closer to me. "Are you gonna tell me why you did it? I mean, you know why I did it so I deserve an answer, too."

After thinking about how to respond, I said diplomatically, "I did it because I don't want my peers to feel threatened – which sounds super conceited, yeah, but people always freak out when they find out about my dad and think that I'm going to unleash my powers on everyone in an attempt to get… I dunno, revenge or something? This way, no one's gonna even think of me and I get to stay where I belong." I hunched over my food and shrugged yet again. "Besides, I don't want to be alone. Everyone in hero class seems like they're a real douche-nozzle."

"Now that's not fa—"

"Layla," I pleaded silently, urging her to admit what she really might think instead of what she thinks she should have thought.

"Yeah, that's probably an accurate statement," she conceded with a sigh. Layla stretched out a bit and looked out dreamily to the street. "I wonder how Will's doing… We didn't see him for the rest of the day after his placement."

I wanted to scream at her about how madly in love she was with Will but I knew that would just make her feel embarrassed. "Hey," I said, touching her arm, "I'm going to go home – why don't you visit Will? You know, see what's going on with him and his parents?"

"But I don't want to ditch you," Layla declared loyally. I simply smiled and gave her a light push.

"You're not ditching me, you dork. Besides, I couldn't have stayed for much longer anyway – I need to let my neighbor's cat in for the night anyway. One of those outdoor cats, you know?" I stood up from the swing and picked up my plate to take it into the kitchen. After saying my goodbyes to Layla and her mom, I slipped on my boots and headed out, walking home at a leisurely pace.

Now, don't judge me here when I tell you that I didn't have to let some random neighbor's cat in for the night. But as much as I hated lying to anyone (let alone Layla), I hated the idea of keeping her from Will even more.

I pulled my jean jacket a little tighter around me. _Is it me, or did this street suddenly get way creepier? _It _was_ after all about 8:30 at night and the street that ran into mine was lined with Victorian houses much like my own only far more foreboding than they ever had been before. Maybe it was just nerves or the fact that Layla and I had watched a bunch of cheap horror films before dinner, but I felt kind of paranoid. So when I heard someone quickly approaching me from behind on heavy footsteps, I did what I always do when I get freaked out: I froze. And then someone grabbed my shoulder.

In my defense, it was never a good idea to sneak up on a Tamor without announcing yourself. So could I really be blamed that I reacted by shoving my elbow into my "assailant's" solar plexus and then bashing their nose with my tiny fist of fury? I didn't think so. But that didn't help me from feeling bad immediately afterwards.

"Oh, my _god _I am so sorr—" I started to say as I turned around. But then I caught sight of the upsettingly familiar black and white stripes and shaggy hair. "Oh. It's you," I said, horrified.

Lash was reeled over a bit, his hands clasping his nose. He (of course) was wearing his trademark stripes but he was also wearing athletic shorts – like the kind you use for basketball or something. He had obviously been jogging. When he took his hands away from his nose, my heart nearly just stopped out of sheer humiliation/fear. _He's going to kill me_.

Blood had started to gush out of his nose. I hadn't broken it but still – it looked _really _bad. And even though I didn't like the guy, I knew that I had screwed up big time. We just looked at each other for a long beat before he did something completely unexpected: he started _laughing. _Really hard.

"Oh, damn," he chortled, "that was _hilarious_. Who knew that a tiny thing like you could pack that much punch?" He laughed some more before calming enough to look down at my stunned face. "But seriously, princess. Don't tell anyone that just happened. I have a reputation to uphold."

I gaped even more at the blood that was now dribbling from his chin before snapping out of it and saying, "That is a lot of blood. I'm so sorry, Lash…" I thought about what I should do for a moment. Obviously, I didn't think long enough because instead of just backing out of the whole situation, I offered, "Do you want to come with me to my house? It's just down the street and I can clean that up real fast – it's the least I can do."

He looked really shocked that I had offered him this act of kindness. "No, no… It's fine, I'll just –" he reached down to wipe his face on the hem of his shirt but I stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey," I interjected. Without even realizing it I had reached out and grabbed his wrist to stop him; I let go immediately. "It's not fine," I admitted, "You helped me out today and I just repaid you by punching you in the face. Let me at least do this for you, and then we can go back to disliking each other. Okay?" Before he could respond I had already turned and started to walk to my house. Even though I didn't look back to check if he was following me, I did listen for it. After some hesitation, his heavy footfalls started to echo my light ones.

We said nothing in the five minutes it took to get to my house. But when I started to open the gate to the front garden, Lash broke the silence.

"Holy crap."

"What?"

"You live in a dollhouse," he gasped mockingly. "A really, really big dollhouse."

I glared at him for a moment before deciding to ignore him. I unlocked the door and after turning on all of the lights, I led him through the foyer into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and examined the room intently. I tried to imagine what it would have been like, seeing my home for the first time. The kitchen itself was rustic and antiqued, with every detail attended to by my father after my mother passed. "Your house is… nice."

Searching his eyes for insincerity, I slowly walked towards him with a towel that I had wetted with cold water. "Thank you," I said hesitantly as I started to dab his bloody face.

"So where's your mom and dad?" he asked, wincing slightly from the contact.

"Dubai. India. Business trip." I decided not to include the little "dead mom" factoid. It wasn't really relevant at the time and even though it wasn't a really big factor in my life, I didn't talk to people about it for my dad's sake.

His eye brows wiggled suggestively at me as he said, "_Oh_, so we're all alone?"

I took a step back from him and crossed my arms. "I will kick you in the balls. I only feel bad for hurting people when they don't deserve it." Returning to my task silently, I finished pretty quickly. "Do you do your own laundry?" I asked suddenly after I threw the towel in the sink.

"No," he snorted, as if I had just asked him a really stupid question. "Why?"

I pointed to his chest; there was blood there, forming a scarlet pattern.

"Oh, that? Pft, I'll just get my mom to clean it when I get home," he said dismissively, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

"You are really obnoxious, you know that?" I bristled. "Take off your shirt."

His face turned beet-red within a second of my command. "W-What?" he sputtered. It took everything within my power not to laugh aloud because the big, bad senior Lash was embarrassed.

"Oh, please," I sighed. "It's not like I want to make out with you or something – I'd rather not play tonsil hockey with someone who dunks my friend's head in a toilet just because they can. You have those bloodstains on your shirt and once they dry completely (which will pretty soon) it will be pretty hard to get them out. I'll just wash it here while they're still fresh and save your poor mother the trouble." I held out my hand expectantly and after a moment or two of an awkward stare-down, he took his shirt off and handed it to me. "Thank you. If you want, you can wait in the living room. It's just off the front hall where we came in."

He nodded awkwardly and I whisked his shirt away to the laundry room. When I had put the shirt in and started the wash cycle, it suddenly dawned on me that the first guy that I had shirtless in my house was a guy that – while kinda attractive… fine, _very_ attractive – I didn't even like very much as a person. After all, he had victimized Ethan and the rest of the sidekicks. A group that now included me. _Just because he's been pretty nice to me doesn't give me an excuse to forget that_, I reasoned with myself as I walked back to the front hall.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw what my unexpected house guest was doing.

It wasn't like it was offensive or anything – all he was doing was looking at all the pictures of on the mantle place. But that didn't stop me from wanting to throw something heavy at him to distract him long enough from hiding the embarrassing photo of a 12-year-old me in a sparkly blue leotard I had been strapped into for a gymnastics recital. I had always tried to destroy that photo but my father was always one step ahead of me so eventually I just gave up. So now I braced myself for Lash's impending teasing.

But again he surprised me. "Hey, where's your mom in all of these pictures?"

Blinking dumbly, I replied thickly, "That's… That's not really any of your business."

"Oh, I get it," Lash said, bobbing his head sympathetically at me, "she ditched you, right?" I could tell that he was trying to be a weird form of understanding with me but I couldn't help but be kind of pissed that he was just _assuming _that.

"If death counts as ditching, yeah," I conceded bluntly. I realized how harsh I sounded but I didn't apologize; if my dad were there he wouldn't have wanted me to – not when it came to this topic. But _still_. The ashamed look in his eyes made me feel so guilty.

He ran a large hand through his hair and looked to the ground. "I'm sorry…"

"No, you didn't know. I can't blame you." I shrugged and walked over to him, sitting down in the overstuffed armchair that made me look even smaller than I actually was. "It's okay – I never really _knew her_ knew her and I can't really miss what was never there, you know? But my dad just can't talk about it so I don't. So I won't," I explained nonchalantly, sinking further into my seat's plushy depths.

Lash gave me this weird look before sitting on the ottoman in front of my chair. "I…" He looked like he was about to say something serious but he quickly decided against it. He smirked and chuckled, "You look ridiculous sitting in that chair. Like a doll."

I arched an eyebrow and then, to my surprise (and horror), _laughed_. What the hell? "You know," I joked, "I think this whole situation looks – no, _is_ – kind of ridiculous." It was true, after all. We were two people who had only known each other for a day, didn't really like each other (or at least I didn't like him), but were nonetheless sitting in a comfortable living room together, talking about my dead mother while he was right in front of me just wearing tennis shoes and shorts. It was odd.

He smiled and chuckled a bit more before we settled into an uncomfortable silence where we were just looking at each other, mirroring this strange look. I was almost relieved when I heard a knock on the door.

Breaking eye contact immediately, I leapt up and basically sprinted to the door – I didn't even think of how the whole thing might look to someone who was just walking in.

Not bothering to check the peephole (which is dangerous and you should not follow my bad, bad example) I pulled the door open in one lurch.

_Oh, crap. _It was the last person in the world I would ever, ever want to catch me in such an awkward situation.

"Hey, auntie Vera," I mumbled as she swooped in, her Prada stilettoes clacking violently on the hardwood and her finely manicured talons – ahem, hands—lunging towards my cheeks. I practically got whiplash from each encounter with her.

It wasn't that I didn't love Vera; my father's evil twin sister was sweet in her own terrifying little way but it was a bit intense to have a super villainess haunting our doorway and judging my fashion choices at the same damn time. Just because I didn't dress like the darker, scarier version of Anna Wintour didn't mean that I didn't have good-ish taste.

"Oh, _darling_," she trilled, not even noticing Lash being terrified by her. "Why is your daddy-kins letting you dress like a colorblind, dull toddler? Just kidding. I love you so, so much… Oh, hello there." She had finally noticed Lash; with an arch of a sharp eyebrow she leaned down to meet my height ('cause she was 5'11" even without her 5" heels) and said, "Would you mind telling me who the odd-looking, gangly, shirtless, man-boy in your living room is?"

"Low blow," Lash muttered.

"Oh, that was tame." Vera sauntered towards him threateningly, hovering over him with her superior, heel-enhanced height and glaring at him with the same look that I witnessed people crying because of. She didn't even take her scary demon eyes off of his when she called back to me, "I have bleach in my car, Luna. Want me to deal with this guy?"

I galloped to get between them.

Deciding to diffuse the situation before I had to clean another one of my aunt's messes, I explained, "His name is Lash (supposedly) and I know him from school. I was walking home from Layla's and I got paranoid because I had watched too many lame horror films so when Lash came jogging up behind me, I punched him in the face. Blood ensued, I took him back here out of guilt, cleaned his face, and to spare his mother from having to try and get out dried bloodstains I commanded Lash to let me wash his shirt. Hence, shirtless boy." I exhaled deeply and ran my hand through my hair. Vera stared at me for a moment, bemused and not in the slightest bit interested in staying for another moment.

"Alright then, darling." She kissed my cheek, leaving a dark stain on my pale cheek. "Have fun… I just wanted to see if you were alright, maybe say hello to my darling brother or something," she droned. Vera headed for the door with great loping strides before stopping short to add, "Oh, and one more thing: I have a _big _surprise for you tomorrow. Alright. Good night, Luna… Man-boy."

The door slammed behind her. I let out a great sigh of relief, giving myself a moment to recover from Vera's impact. Her having a surprise for me could mean nothing good whatsoever.

"Lash?" I said warily, "Can I just give you your shirt at school tomorrow?"

He seemed taken aback by my abrupt change in topic. "Yeah, sure. Er, later… I guess."

I nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and Lash?"

"Yes, Lunette?"

Crossing my arms uncomfortably, I bit my lip and stepped forward. It meant that I had to tilt my head up quite a lot to look him in the eye but I felt like I needed both the eye contact and the proximity to say what I needed to. "Don't tell anyone about this. Please," I added hastily. "I don't think that you're that level of jerk but I don't want someone spreading rumors about me my first week of high school. Not that I care too much about what people I don't even know think of me, but it would really kill my dad if he heard that I was already down just outside of the gate. Again, I don't _think _you would do that, but I don't know you and honestly, I don't have a great impression of you." I grabbed one of my oversized zip-ups from the couch that I had left there and gingerly handed it to him.

He looked like he was going to say something but instead he just avoided my eyes as he nodded. And with that, he took the zip-up from my hands and left without another word or gesture.

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! But I hope you like it. Same deal as last time – I'd just love to have 5 reviews to post another chapter.**

**Much love and cheers, C.**

**Oh – and I made a pinterest board for this story. Luna's Storyboard. Fun, right?**

**REVIEW. Tell me:**

**What do you think of Luna's attitude?**

**What do you think Lash was thinking when she was a douche to him at the end?**

**WHAT DO YOU THINK OF AUNTIE VERA?!**


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